St. Isidore, The Deluge

What Can I Expect In 2017?

What Can I Expect In 2017?

Tom wants to hurt me, suddenly.   He was always throwing his substantial weight around.  Now he is throwing it at me.  Tom is my male turkey.  He is big.  Really big.  Even when he is not puffed up.  I’m used to him shadowing me when I enter his domain. 50X15 of internal fencing meant to contain and protect my eight waterfowl and turkeys (now numbering 2).  I’m not used to him charging me when I turn my back.  I was used to my billy goat nudging me and always kept a close eye, and sometimes a thick stick in hand when I dealt with the Boer goats.  A new paradigm.  An evolution.  A potential hazard.  Why am I surprised?

It’s my nature to be surprised when relationships change.  It’s to my shock when my purview collides with a new reality.  It’s my demoralization when my handling of new circumstances with familiar methods fails to yield familiar results.  I certainly resist preparing myself for the challenges of new people, places and things.  I am a mark for every grifter, whiner, or malignant narcissist who leans on my country gate.  These occurrences empty my pockets.  They strain my sympathies.  They mar my humanity.  I don’t want to abandon mankind and become a hermit.  I do want to better prepare for those who will surely be leaning on my gate in 2017.

The flood in May at Sawmyl Synders Farm changed a lot of things, not all for the worse.  For details of the deluge, see prior blogs.  On the down side, my plans for future expansion of farm endeavors are permanently canceled.  On the up side, I’m not completely giving up, but rather adopting plan B, which I still haven’t fully fleshed out.  As for the up side, my eyes were opened to many things.  I need to have a lifelong pursuit that is not challenged by the vagaries of weather, people, or health.  What might that be?  Do tell.  Next up side, I realize there are people in my life who are more important than flood prone property and death dependent livestock.  My bundles of joy:  wife, children, grandchildren.  Always have a life to live separate from them but never think of living your life without them.  My wife is retiring.  My children are building.  My g-kids are awakening.

Another up side awakened in me when that flood tried to drown my spirit.  The Church.  Christian Church.  St. Issidores.  The new spirituality entered me like a lamb and has since been my challenging lion.  The only people who came out in the night in my water-logged hour of need were those genuine believers at a church who called me family before I knew that I was.  Now, I say challenging my lion because I stepped into the church with no doors with my eyes closed to distrust, open to mutuality and accepting of appropriate difference.  The eye opening occurrences have stunned me.  I know that I am naive for my years.  I know I should have put on my big boy pants before entering the unknown-to-me land of mission.  What did I discover?  Desperate people do desperate things.  Tribal behavior remains when tribes merge.  The young act young, that’s their only fault.  My discoveries demand that I change.  Reality can be patient but it is also indifferent to persistent myopia.

Three things stand in the way of 2017 becoming a better year than 2016.  The first resists any form of control but respects preparation, resilience, and reverence.  The weather.  She is not God but she has his ear and she should have ours.  A rain slick and rubber boots is nice.  Even if the deluge is belly button high.  With boots full of water and a slick soaked on the inside it’s still nice to know – you were prepared.  If the water didn’t carry you away, you can be sure of three things.  The rain will stop.  You are alive to start rebuilding.  Nobody knows the trouble you’ve seen (so don’t pay any attention to their bromides and bloviation).

The second thing that stands in the way of a better year is something you can’t control but you can influence.  People.  Again there are three things to incorporate into influencing people.  No.  Say no.  When what they want is not what you want – say no.  Next, boundaries.  Money?  How much do you want to give or spend versus how much the charity case will try for (as much as you have?).  Accommodation?  Every tribe has their nomenclature and ritual but when in Rome – act appropriately.  Harsh reproach won’t work on just about anyone out of diapers.  Example and suggestion might but sometimes a cause has to be lost in order for the possibility of other higher causes to be successful.  Finally, choices.  When individuals render themselves of no useful purpose, then your purpose for them is no use.  Let go so that another opportunity with another person may be allowed in.

The last thing that stands in the way of a better tomorrow is the thing that yields to control, influence, preparation, resilience, and reverence.  You.  Or me in this case.  My year will be better if my health and welfare get high priority.  Take care of my heath and wealth.  Build on the ruin of real failure and rejoice in discovery of goodness in near misses and great good fortune.  Take every opportunity to gain from the things that happen and don’t, that frighten and inspire.  Treasure all you have.  Avoid turning great bounty into sour grapes.  Stay true to your evolving beliefs and deny false prophets from entering in to what has proven to be true to you your entire life.  Being positive isn’t always the answer but having both binocular forward vision and a rear view mirror perspective adds to your chances.  What am I getting at?  Yes, go high but don’t forget your lows.  What is still the biggest mystery?  Who is always the hardest to convince?  Why is everything that is so important so hard?  Where can all the answers be found?  When will change stop?  When will hope begin?

The Deluge

2016 at Sawmyl Synders Farm

Every ascent has a descent in its future.  So it goes with Sawmyl Synders Farm.  Selling an average of 30 dozens eggs a week up until May 26th, 2016.  This stream of income included sales of mostly chicken, ample duck, plenty of turkey and sparse goose eggs. Farm expenses helped offset income taxes and eliminated sales tax on farm related spending.  Quickly getting rich…slowly.  In the prior holiday season, I processed two of my young turkeys.  These two standard bronze birds, a nine pound (dressed) hen (we infrared-fried for Thanksgiving) and the jumbo twenty-two pound  Tom (we roasted) for Christmas.  In the garden, our crops included five types of tomatoes, two variety of long string beans, three kinds of potatoes, plus cucumbers, okra, onions, garlic, etc.  The little cabin (shack, some say;) wore a new and a freshly painted, inspired interior, including earthy colors with accented walls.  Our sweaty  endeavors in a far-from-the-crowd setting allowed for satisfaction.  Yes, before us, then, we saw a growing ideal and a peaceful retirement.  After us, came the deluge.

At around 5:30 P.M., I headed out, loaded with farm fresh eggs, headed for Thursday home deliveries.  As I locked tight the front gate, the clouds above let loose.  Before I drove down a mile, the blinding rain drove me back.  Back in the house, in the laundry room, my wet clothes in the dryer, I moved to the easy chair and put on a favorite DVD in my still cable-less house.  Within an hour, a buzzing alarm sounded in the laundry room.  Water rising from the floor into the dryer.  Oh my!  My boots go and I take off.  The near catastrophic Tax Day flood back on April 18th, forced me to move the tractor and trucks up stream.  Now, wading through water already knee high, the new tractor and old pickup awaited my rescue.  They waked their way to the rail fence one-hundred yards away, and nearer the main road out.  I hugged my bewildered livestock guardian dog, Syndee, and put her, for the first time, in my truck cab.  She road shotgun on leather seats, while quite confused, as we drove up to the Nichols Sawmill Road exit, only to find traffic already stopped dead.  No fleeing this disaster.  Seeing a rising fate.

Now rising water up from the once shallow creek far from the house.  Now near.  Cresting fifteen foot banks, flanking the house.  Streaming down from the main road above, surrounding the house all around.  Sitting in my new King Ranch, we waited.  Listen.  The water crunching gravel past tires.  I resisted the urge.  As I watched in the rear-view-mirror, the fast moving muddy rose.  The top of the  duck house sank.   The five foot high waterfowl shelter, two hundred feet away, gasp its last.  I saw my dreams of Sawmyl Synders Farm sink as my ducks and geese rise and revel in their new water wonderland.  No reveling on the other side of my car mirror for me.  Fleeting thoughts of doom, constant thoughts of what next, and no place to go, we existed for two hours in suspension.  No anxiety or boredom, no fear and no hope.  A halt to the rain brought all of these sentiments flowing back – and then some.

A scream can not rage indefinitely, and so it is with storm.  Two hours after it began it stopped.  Our home – flooded.  The propane tank leaking.  Those few goats gone.  More loss than could be counted now.  Less future than could be imagined before.  In the days ahead, I heard more unsolicited opinions than genuine empathy.  Can you imagine?  Such as: It could have been worse (true, I could be dead).  You are lucky you have insurance (false, I paid my annual premiums and FEMA excluded items, limited coverage, and took a deductible).  But my favorite:  I told you so! (not true, a neighbor claimed to have warned me about this 500 year flood after I bought the property.  In any case, friends I expected to help with the disaster never showed up for the crisis part.  However, strangers I barely knew showed up on Memorial day and beyond.  So, it was that season again.  Time to find some new friends.  Time to rebuild.  Time to update my paradigm.

Months have passed.  The fifty laying hens I lost are being replaced.  Only twenty layers remain but with twenty-five pullets in the pen, production looks good for February.  Twenty-five more pullets coming this December, with production due in June 2017.  The ducks and geese survived the high water and relished it.  The turkeys survived but, they will tell you, with less relish.  These birds on higher ground must have wondered “What’s the rumpus!”.  With the goats gone, and nothing to guard, I felt I needed to get another guardian dog for my surviving guardian.  Her name is Sydnee.  Akbash puppy.  Now I have two Turkish livestock guardian dogs with nothing to guard.  Karabash and Akbash.  Black Head and White Head.  Other additions include the dozen meat chickens I raised and processed for the holiday meals in 2016 and the weekend feasts in 2017.  Busy work while still trying to grasp the past and grope for a future.  Believing without seeing becomes a necessity.  Surviving a flood means drowning your sorrows and moving on.  Those witnessing Mother Nature’s devastating potency and cold lack sentiments have a new reality.  But what will it be?

Every descent has an ascent in its future.  I can’t build more field fences and animal building on the rubble of this flood.  Repair the existing and adapt to the reality.  Do not wait for the next flood but have alternatives if it occurs before I die.  Can you dig it?  Yes, my land is higher on the other end where I also have road access.  No, it’s not in my original plans.  But neither was the deluge.  So it’s time to put on my big boy pants, stop feeling sorry for myself, and wade back in Sawmyl Synders Farm in 2017.  A funny thing happened on the way to my retirement

 

 

 

Trump, Vignettes

Thanksgiving 2016

When the Egyptian farmers completed harvesting their corn, they used to cry and pretend to be a grief-stricken. This was done to mislead the spirits of which they believed lived in the corn. The farmers had the fear that the spirits might become angry when they cut down the corn on which the spirits used to live.

Hops Festival:
The month of February and March is the time for the harvesting of Hops. Hops are dried in kilns, bleached with sulphur dioxide and pressed into bales. About 90% of Australia’s hops are used for making beer.

Nubaigai is the harvest festival held in Lithuania. In Lithuania, the Thanksgiving tradition involves the creation of a Boba which is then wrapped around the worker who bound the last sheaf.

The harvest wreath is then carried in a plate covered with a white linen cloth. As the procession moves on, people who reaped sing an old song which represents how they rescued the crop from a huge bison that tried to devour it.

1963 – U.S. President Kennedy was assassinated while riding in a motorcade in Dallas, TX. Texas Governor John B. Connally was also seriously wounded. Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson was inaugurated as the 36th U.S. President.

The story began in 1614 when a band of English explorers sailed home to  England with a ship full of Patuxet Indians bound for slavery. They left behind smallpox which virtually wiped out those who had escaped.  By the time the Pilgrims arrived in Massachusetts Bay they found only one living Patuxet Indian, a man named Squanto who had survived slavery in England and knew their language.  He taught them to grow corn and to fish, and negotiated a peace treaty between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Nation. At the end of their first year, the Pilgrims held a great feast honoring Squanto and the Wampanoags. 

If you are really thankful, what do you do? You share. W. Clement Stone

5 Ways to Talk to Your Pro-Trump Family on Thanksgiving

1) Arm yourself with facts, but convey emotion with personal stories.

2) Ask open-ended questions and listen to their responses.

3) If they’re misinformed, question their sources.

4) Channel your inner Hillary.

5) Don’t argue to win.

What is your favorite comment or quote about the election, results or candidates?

She’s a professional matchmaker.

“I had one man that refused to continue to date a lady that voted for Trump. I have heard of countless conflicts with dates because of the election. It’s been so bad I’ve decided not to set up any more dates till next week,” Rose said Thursday.

What a shame. Donald Trump will be remembered as the man who decimated the Republican Party and gave us crooked Hillary as our next president.

Animals, Vignettes

Getting Boxed In – Pray for a Miracle While Plotting an Escape

Yesterday, one of my hens, Barbara Boxer, got trapped in one of those twelve inch plastic milk carton cubes that was sitting out.  You know, the ones you buy at Target for storage purposes.  Anyway, I discovered this in the afternoon when I went out in the humidity to check on the sweaty livestock.  I heard frantic cackling.  I saw curious interest.  My chicken killer puppy Sydnee probed that black plastic upside-down container.  Something moved inside the makeshift cage.  Chapter II of “Chickens knowing how to get into trouble but not knowing how to get out of it”.   Chapter LXVI of farmer playing god and reaching down from people heaven and lifting the cursed carton.  A seeming miracle to the Godless chickens.  A continuing wonder to the amused farmer.  A constant reminder that farmer incompetence trumps barnyard stupidity.  When will they learn.  When will they ever learn.

Don’t know much about how poor Barbara Boxer got boxed in.  Don’t know if that is the end of her woes, but probably not.  I do know that she is not unique among chickens or other life when it comes to getting boxed in by her own actions and needing a seeming miracle to get out.  I was there but if not, death was certain.  The actual box of chicken fiasco opened me up to the hypothetical box of human humility each of us has experienced, escaped, and then been re-trapped within.  Pick from life’s realities, any of life’s challenging realities, and you will be able to assemble a box from which you seemingly can not escape… without a miracle.  Even though you always do.  But one day your luck may run out.  Someday your wits won’t be enough.  Your family and friends may not be able to lift the increasingly heavier box off.  What should you be doing if you are now or have been trapped in a box consisting of a job too consuming, a partner too demanding, finances too over whelming?  I don’t know.  But do something to escape the “box-on-box-off” cycle.

Having been within the walls and ceiling of the job-marriage-employment box, I have been trapped in more than once.  I remember some one reaching down and saving me – once.  I remember reaching up and saving myself – once.  In both cases it was important for me to understand how I got boxed in.  It was important to accept that I had the biggest hand in building the box that so imprisoned me.  It was more important that I did not allow myself to let that same box to surround me again.  I think I have been successful but boxes come in a great many deceptive forms these days and there is no end to the creative ways in which the crafty human can construct his own prison.  Ok, so when one finally finds oneself trapped by the walls of self destruction, what are the steps to getting out?

First – what happened?  Finances, affiliations, frustration will weigh heavily but unless you understand your circumstances you may make things worse by choosing quick action or slow denial.  Find a sound sounding board.  Put your worries on the shelf until they can properly and orderly be consumed.  Maybe speculating the worst can help with putting your best foot forward.  Perhaps saying some things out loud can advise you on your necessities.  Never let a contrarian in the room – this brings doom.  Get yourself a straight shooter to keep you on the path.  Always put your concerns in an important/urgent grid which allows you to label each as important/urgent (!), important/not urgent, not important/not urgent, and NOT IMPORTANT/URGENT (!!!).

The blind pedestrian walks to work on the highway shoulder during rush hour because of the urgency of the job, not the importance his life.  The beleaguered parent watches the world series on a school night because of the importance of escape, not because of urgency.   The jobless breadwinner worries about the urgency of the family vacation, not the importance of getting a job.  Walls are built by current urgency.  They are knocked down with the acknowledgement and action on future importance.  Let go of the immediate curiosity and get a hold future reality.  Dream on but don’t fantasize.  Unless you are still a child, you should not look outside yourself for rescue.  Even though it can happen and inspire wonder, it should not be your fallback plan.  But what do you do if your best isn’t good enough?

Think!  You have to decide what you want before you can decide what you want to do.  Balance your life.  Be honest with yourself.  Shed the things that don’t do you no good.  Usually nagging thoughts should be addressed.  When your unconscious comes knocking, let her in.  She, your unconscious, will not harm you.  That’s a start.  You, your conscious you, has a bad reputation.  Like a manipulative friend, his inspirations go awry.  His motives are the kind that don’t do you no good.  Use evidence, reason, logic, self-preservation if necessary but get out of the box on your own power.  Get into the groove of self-reliance and intuition by acting responsibly, confidently, and slowly.  That’s the ticket.  Who will notice?

Everyone.  Once you can not be easily influenced, lots of people will go away.  Others will attack.  Some will come towards you.  Those are the ones you want in your inner circle.  Losing friends isn’t always a bad thing.  Being alone can sometimes be a good thing.  A dedicated relationship is better than Facebook full of Friends.  Unfriend those who have not proven to be friends.  Reach out to those who are worthy to be friends.  Never seek to go below or above the level of relationship that costs you self-esteem.  Empower yourself using the means that work for you.  Pray.  Read.  Converse.  Listen.  Meditate.  Cry.  Laugh.  Find out who you are on your terms without having those terms dictated to you.  So much of is out of power can be brought into your hands by simply reaching out.  Getting out.  Looking within.

TV Cable

Death of a Crippled Chicken

My lame chicken died yesterday.  The inevitable arrived, as always, as a surprise.  My little chickadee couldn’t survive forever.  Watching her pathetically trying to edge up to the feed and water.  Me pathetically performing physical therapy on her wounded right leg.  Her bunk mate chick jumping on the her, snuggling, enjoying the closeness.  A meat chicken’s reality is doom.  Her dreams are merely instinct.  But to be impaired and live a shorter life than her siblings brings sadness.  Is there a way to look at this event positively?

The barnyard only functions when all of its parts are functioning.  Animals serving their purpose.  Farmer serving his animals.  Nature giving as she will and takes away as she pleases.  A crippled animal takes away everyone.  Takes food and water that does the least benefit.  Takes time for the farmer to attend to one that can’t tend to itself.  Sometimes, the imperfect can be made whole.  Reality dictates that life will run its course and require that crippling conditions must be corrected or overcome.  Life requests our very best if one hopes to survive.  Life demands much more in order to flourish.  The bad news for livestock is that the potential for a cripple grows small.  The good news for people is that we have options and power over our crippled condition.

I watched a video from a series called This American Life.  The episode, titled The Spy Who Loved Everybody, concerned a prank where a large group attended a small band’s nightclub gig in order to make that one night “the best gig ever”.  Initially, the band was amazed.  Later, they found out it was prank.  The take from both the individual pranksters and the individual band members varied widely and in opposite directions.  What was revealed, from my perspective, was that good intentions don’t have guaranteed results and a crippled person is the only one who can escape his impairment.

The prank leader who confected the “best gig ever” was made aware of the unintended results of mission and his agents.  Though harm was not the intent, it was undeniable that when the band found out the blowout gig was staged, they were crest fallen.  This fellow concluded that since that because their intentions were good, that it was still a positive thing.  One might call his intentions a good dream and the reality a bad nightmare.  In any case, the pranksters continued their good intentions and the same varying and often unexpected results.

On the band’s side, one member in particular was greatly harmed.  He said he spent his whole life trying to avoid confrontation and being laughed at.  This prank with good intentions took him back to the childhood days when he had to endure bullying and cruelty.  As grew up, he sought to escape the pain and find refuge wherever, finally landing in relative obscurity surrounded by possibly other emotional cripples.  The experience of the prank not only caused old wounds to open but also forced him to face the fact that his crippling attempts to avoid confrontation and being laughed at left him cornered with no options of escape.  One day, three months after the prank, he stood up and said enough.  This is who I am.  I play the guitar.  I enjoy my life.  There is nothing wrong with.  He healed himself of a lifelong impediment by hitting the bottom of his pain and merely standing back up and accepting who he was.  Who he always was.  Nothing could hurt him now or anymore.  But there was a last question.

The guitarist, named Chris, was asked, “Given a choice between dreams and real life which would you choose?”  Chris answered the first one (dreams).  This surprised me.  Why dreams?  But upon reflection I do see it.  The second one, reality, may help us realize where we are and what we have to do and how far we have to good but it is not encouraging to a cripple, emotional or otherwise.  The hardness of reality, with its sharp edges and bruising reminders and its unforgiving laws of physics can be a call to quit and hide and nurse our inadequacies.  But dreams have no such characteristics.  Dreams live without judgement or hardness or cruelty.  Dreams accept us and all of our inadequacies without notice.  Dreams allow healing and overcoming and forgiveness.  We are like crippled chickens if we accept reality by itself not allowing for dreams and can accept that same fate.  Dreams and being human allow for choices.  The choice for self-acceptance.  The choice to let others be themselves but outside of impacting your life.  The choice to like things the way they are.

Animals, Vignettes

A Killer Prowls My Land

Yesterday evening, Friday, we arrived back at Sawmyl Synders Farm and one dog greeted us, Syndee, the big Anatolian.  No Sydnee, little Akbash.  We unloaded the truck and entered the cabin I restrained Syndee from accosting my wife.  I looked around.  I called.  I listened.  It was dark.  There was no Sydnee.  I went back in and got one of my newly purchased mini-flashlights.  No need.  With the other lights that come on at night, easy to see a pure white puppy even on a perfectly black night.  The pup just out of sight back near the garden and the coops.  But she didn’t greet me.  Something was awry.  Something was dead.

Sydnee finally did it.  She let her instincts and nature take over.  And now the worst thing, the most nightmarish thing had happened.  Laying in the grass, lifeless, an animal killed by its protector.  An eight week old poulet in the jaws of a four month old guardian dog.  The little chick was too small to survive its first day outside, having escaped its protective coop.  The young puppy, too young to know the consequences of going too far with its animal antics.  The master of both too inept to secure the chicken run against the escape or anticipate the horror of a confrontation with his beloved charges.  The guilty must be dealt with.

A chicken killing dog must be stopped, no matter young or old, no matter if it is the first time.  But first, what happened?  I wanted to let my maturing poulets out of their 8X8 Coop III but the attached chicken run had unrepaired damage from the May floods and also the since departed billy goat.  I inspected the run closely two days ago and made the repairs yesterday.  The repairs consisted of holes torn in the chicken wire, separation of chicken wire from fence and fence panels, and movement of panels from their prior attached positions.  I spent an hour and thought I was thorough.  The poulets were released and reluctantly explored the outdoors, safely in the fully enclosed chicken run.  I checked on them several times that afternoon.  I put a waterer in the chicken yard to encourage their adventuring.  All was well, until the night.

Just when you turn your back.  Just when you let your guard down.  Just when you think it is safe.  The puppy is a guardian as much as it is predator.  A friend can be trusted but he also must be watched.  The needy must be given generosity but their desperation often exceeds their gratitude.  Just as I have faith that my dogs will do their duty, I must also remember their nature.  Just as I trust in my friends, I must remember that they are not family.  Just as I want to give to the needy, neither do I want to be taken.  Each encounter has a double edge.  Each edge has the ability to heal as well as cut.  Do not fall asleep expecting either health or harm.  Do wake up to the possibilities of both from those you choose to allow in your circle.

 

House Church

Matthew 20:1-16King James Version (KJV)

1 For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard.  The kingdom of heaven resembles a householder who hires laborers to work in his vineyard.

2 And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard.  The laborers agreed to a wage of a penny a day to work in his vineyard.

3 And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace,  After three hours, the householder observed idle men in the marketplace.

4 And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you.
And they went their way. (?) The householder told the idle men he would pay them a right wage.

5 Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise.

6 And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle?

7 They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.

8 So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first.

9 And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny.

10 But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny.

11 And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house,

12 Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day.

13 But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?

14 Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.

15 Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?

16 So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.

My first take is: Opportunity is provided in the beginning by one to all.  All may choose to capitalize but may not be able at the same time.  The ones who chose first are no better than the ones who chose last, their reward is still the same.  This is at the discretion of the good man.  One can assume the evil eye might respond differently.  The one who agrees to terms with another may not change those terms, only the maker of those terms has that option.

Upon re-reading this parable, I am at first confused.  When verse 4 states “they went their way” it could be understood as they left (as it is meant in verse 14).  Verse 15, the householder becomes slick and uses a leap in logic by attributing the laborer’s “evil eye” to the householder’s goodness rather than his obvious lack of fairness.  The householder even contradicts himself in verses 4 and 7 by telling the men he would pay them what was “right”.

Verse 16 explains the actual proceedings and but does not explain the logic.  Why pay more for less?  Won’t the next harvest find these early risers hiding at the tavern until the 11th hour?

In the parable each of the people and the places, wages, and hours are symbolic.

19:30 But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.

The well-tended vineyard is the symbolic image of Israel, God’s obedient people of the Old Covenant Church in covenant with Yahweh.

In verse one Jesus says this parable is about the coming Kingdom of Heaven that He has come to establish; therefore this parable is about the new Israel and the New Covenant Church.

  1. vineyard = the Church, the kingdom of heaven on earth/house of God
  2. housemaster/lord of the vineyard = God
  3. laborers = those who serve the kingdom/house of God in the Old and New Covenants or who come to serve the kingdom at different ages in a lifetime.
  4. market-place = the world
  5. foreman who pays the promised wage for service = Jesus
  6. wage = salvation
  7. hours = the age of man in salvation history from Creation to the end of the age of man and/or the lifetime of a person from birth to the end of life

Whether a person is baptized at birth and continues to serve the Lord all his life or the person who is called in his youth or middle age or even the person who answers the call to salvation at the end of his life, God’s gift of salvation is freely given in every case.

Animals, Vignettes

Tangled Up and Don’t Know What to Do About It

On Monday, I discovered one of my Cornish Rocks with a string wrapped around one leg.  That discarded eighteen inch piece of string belonged to a feed bag and attached to a length of wire which the unlucky chicken dragged around the otherwise sparsely furnished chicken coop.  This unfortunate circumstance happened several days earlier.  How do I know this?  My little chicken, now Chicken Little, grew half the size of the other thirteen coop-mates.  Chicken Little’s right legged extended straight out from her feathered frame due to dragging the mass.  Even though the leg could be flexed, after removing the drag, CL could still not walk properly.  The mishap injured her and crippled her.  I pray she recovers but I doubt she will.  So who is responsible for the crippled chicken?

In my earlier blogs I have besmirched poultry, really all birds, as “bird brains”.  Knowing how to get into trouble but not knowing how to get out of it.  Also, in another blog, I assumed that my chickens knew what they were doing when it came to birthing before finding a dead chick in the nest box.  Who is responsible for the chickens?  Who is responsible for the dangerous debris littering the coops and the grounds?  Who makes assumptions?  The chickens?  No.  Of course it is the clueless farmer.  Yeah, the one over there with the big brain and bushel of assumptions.  The one holding a crippled Cornish Rock in one hand and a dead Buff Orpington chick in the other.  The one making judgements about those under his care and now facing judgement for his lack of care.  Recommendation?  Cleanup, shut-up,  and be a farmer not a philosopher.

I stated last Sunday that I blogged for a hobby, blogged about how my farm animals knew how to get into trouble but never knew how to get out which closely paralleled my own conundrums.  This chick-caught-on-a-string-and-wire episode sits as a good example.  Months ago, I accepted an invitation to a gathering with pleasure.  Weeks ago, I realized the reason for the invitation with apprehension.  Days ago, I accepted my financial obligation with trepidation.  Now, I lay here along side my crippled chick, tangled up in a situation, dragging an unwanted responsibility, and fearing that I will never be quite the fully functioning believer that I was before I got entangled.

Just as I am responsible for removing the hazards to my farm animal and rescuing them when they get into trouble, so also am I responsible for removing hazards to myself and for extricating my limbs from the tangles of life and the people in my life.  Don’t say yes so easily to strangers, it is a steep slope.  Question the details of what you are getting into before getting into it.  If money or time is involved, gather enough information so that you can set a limit.  Even though charity should be unbound generosity, in reality it can become unbound avarice.  The meek can become predatory if you allow yourself to become prey.  Your donation can become robbery if you never stop and say nay.  It is better to stop giving in time than to stop giving altogether.

House Church

Matthew 25:14-30 – The Parable of the Silver Pieces

  14. For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them;
  15. to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability.  Then he went away.
  16. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents.
  17. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents.
  18. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.
  19. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them.
  20. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, “Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.”
  21. His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.”
  22. And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, “Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.”
  23. His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.”
  24. Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed;
  25. so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.  Here you have what is yours.”
  26. But his master replied, “You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter?  …worthless, lazy lout!
  27. Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest.
  28. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents.
  29. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.
  30. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Summary Matthew 25 Parables

Ten Virgins 1-13: I tell you, I do not know you.

Five virgins were foolish; The foolish said to the sensible, “Give us some of your oil…”;  Master answered, “I tell you I don’t know you…”

Silver Pieces 14-30: You worthless, lazy lout!

Master handed over funds according to each man’s abilities;  …out of fear…; those who have not will lose even the little they have.

The Last Judgement 31-46: Out of my sight, you condemned…

…go off to eternal punishment…

St. Isidore

Lost Chickens and Found Hope, Desperation Meets Desolation

This morning one of my six-gifted Buff Orpingtons went missing.  I observed only five hefty hens roaming the Coop de  I.a today.  Our late night out left the flightless avians vulnerable.  Did the guardians sleep through a raccoon reconnoiter?  Look for feathers.  Blood.  Find the headless hen.  I contained and counted my other fifty-eight fowl.  All accounted.  There must be evidence.  Should always be evidence.  Good job farmer.  First panic, then think.  Yesterday, you let the Buffs bound from their bastion for the first time.  In their delight, they roamed the range.  From turkey shed to trailer bed and all mysteries in between.  She, the missing, could still be desperately hold up in a fenced area, perimeter, or another deadly and predatory cardboard box.  Stop thinking.  Listen.  That egg laying cackle.  She lost now found…laying an egg.  Next door in little Coop de I.b.  The prodigal poultry produced.  Plus egg.

When emotion trumps reason initially, one proves to be human.  But if emotion never finds reason, one submits to irrational.  If emotion reigns during decisions and dealings, she allows her emotional flood to soak endeavors and stall the clever.  Any generous individual who ventures into the land of giving gets taken.  Desperate people survive through boldness.  You extend to the beggar a penny, the hand demands a pound.  The newborn philanthropist recoils once at this avarice and often retreats. Panic, much like that with a farmer’s lost chicken, over powers reason.  The reason for generous giving in the first place now grounded by generous taking.  The anatomy of needy and function of fortune-less must be understood before surgically removing poverty with stitches of charity.  The tactics of the desperate need be known, else one’s wealth stealthily moves into the poor’s pocket.  The beliefs of the bold cannot be altered.  The giver must balance beggar beliefs against continued contributions and the welfare of all involved.

Needy people develop tactics when the beggar’s cup rings empty.  Be it a lion’s den or a stranger’s, the family patriarch or matriarch moves brazenly to support the family’s immediate needs.

Desperate people rise to survival before descending to consent.

Bold people emerge from poverty after beliefs find no humanity.

Stand and deliver gifts, but not all of them.  And not all that could be given.  And only what you want to give.

 

Just Evolveu